


The Beginning of the End

by pannacottafugo



Series: SOMEONE TO DIE FOR [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Crime Scenes, Gen, Guns, Minor Character Death, Murder, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28734678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pannacottafugo/pseuds/pannacottafugo
Summary: The kickstart of Kenma's life in the darkness.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Series: SOMEONE TO DIE FOR [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106588
Kudos: 3





	The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> hey <3  
> so this is the second of a series of little crime!au nekoma drabbles. there will most likely be a proper series with chapters and stuff later, but for now it is just a drabble collection.  
> reposted from my old tumblr.  
> PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS.

You were the only one around the first time Kenma killed someone, and the only one who still remembered.

It had been years ago, when you both had been thirteen. Kenma had been polishing the one gun that you, he and Kuroo owned- as he did almost everyday, obsessively. You had been combing through the meager inventory of supplies, that Kuroo had gone out to restock. It was good that he had gone while he did, because whatever was left in the big tinted plastic storage box was barely enough for another two days. 

You had been in the process of counting through the slim stack of bills for the third time when you’d first heard the yells outside the tiny shack. Instinctively, you’d glanced towards Kenma, who was as frozen as you were. A _clang_ ran through the shelter; someone had just thrown something against the wall or kicked it. You had found out later that it was the former.

Ten seconds later, the door had been ripped off its hinges. A man had stuck his head inside, and you both could tell almost immediately that he was drunk. 

Of _course_ the only thing he processed was the money in your hand. Anyone would have reacted the same; money was money. Mouth spreading into a wide grin, he’d begun to lumber in your direction- and thanks to the size of your ‘home’, you weren’t very far away from him. There was no way you would be able to take him down in a fight, and Kenma definitely couldn’t be counted on for help. He was weaker than you were. Maybe if you made a run for it, you could get Kuroo and-

_Bang._

The man collapsed on your feet, a bloody hole in his forehead. His eyes looked up at you, bloodshot and now blank.

Eyes wide, you forced yourself to look away, to where the still-smoking gun in Kenma’s hand had been pointing at where the man had been standing three seconds ago. His face was the same as always- blank and unbothered, but there was an unfamiliar stiffness present now. As if a layer of glue had been spread over his face, and that was the only thing holding him together. It was a familiar look around the places and people the three of you frequented; you had just never imagined that Kenma would wear it some day.

He blinked twice- and like that, the mask was broken. Slowly, he set the gun on the concrete floor, as if any movement quicker than that would break it. “What do we do with the body?”

* * *

Now, almost ten years later, you still dragged bodies to the same river. It was an old, familiar dumping ground- but still one where the police would never think to look. Kuroo had helped you the first ten or twenty times, neither of you having it in you to dispose of a corpse on your own, but now… you insisted on being alone.

It gave you time to think. 

What also helped was the way the river wound around the old industrial sector and had _plenty_ of spots from where you could comfortably dump whatever you wanted; besides, it was far away from the center of the city. Far enough for you to be able to take a good twenty-minute breather between disposal and getting back into the tiny car, without attracting any suspicion. Sure, you had been with Kenma the longest, but he was sparse with his trust and made it crystal clear that anything could change any time.

Also, you liked being alone. Time to yourself, however scarce, was still the only thing that kept you sane working with both Kuroo and Kenma. It felt like you were breaking the chains of the promise you’d made, just for a little while. Like a temporary lie. 

It made you think of the first time you and Kuroo had gone to toss off a body; the stink had been almost unbearable for you, and he’d had to hold your shoulders as you vomited into the river after setting the body afloat. After you’d stopped retching, he’d pulled you back up and sat down next to you silently. You were still shaky, and he clearly didn’t want to say anything.

You were the first to break the silence. “D’you think it’ll happen again?”

“God, I hope not.” He sighed, bowing his head. “I don’t want to know what would happen to Kenma if he kept killing people… it’s… yeah. I really don’t want to think about it.”

“Neither do I.” You both knew well enough that once Kenma did something that harmed neither him nor the two of you, he would most likely start doing it more often. It had started with stealing food and clothing, then had graduated to nicking the gun and an impressive stash of bullets; but… if it extended to outright murder- not even in self-defence, you didn’t want to think about what it would do to Kenma.

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it,” Kuroo mumbled, pulling himself to his feet. He extended a hand downwards, pulling you up as well. “If it happens, it happens. But we’ve got to figure out a way for it to not hurt Kenma.”

“Killing is wrong,” you stated. “It’s _bad_. And Kenma’s not a bad person. I don’t want him to become a bad person. Not like…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the name.

Kuroo’s gaze dropped to your feet, and he squeezed your hand briefly. “He won’t ever become like _him_. We’ll make sure of it. There’s no way it could happen anyway- they’re so different.”

“Yeah.” You squeezed Kuroo’s hand back, taking comfort in how secure it made you feel even if it was temporary. “Should we go back?”

“Yeah.” 

And back you went.

* * *

You and Kuroo had been right. From then onwards, Kenma had begun practicing his shooting. He did it late at night, when it was his turn to keep watch, but the loud bangs often woke you up. Sure, you were used to the sounds of gunshots in the night - it came with the territory - but… you would never be used to hearing them come from _Kenma_ ’s gun. 

When had it really gone from being _the_ gun to _his_ gun? Nothing had ever been explicitly said out loud; at first, Kenma had wanted nothing to do with the weapon. He had refused to touch it, but then gradually warmed up. Now… he never let it out of his sight.

And six years later? No change at all. Kenma still all but bathed with his trusty little pistol- it was always either in his palm, or tucked into his most accessible pocket (always, always covered by his palm) or on the table in front of him. You hated it, hated seeing how close he’d gotten to it, and you could tell that Kuroo did too. It was obvious; he all but sighed out loud whenever it was brought out.

And like every other person you had ever seen treat a weapon like an extension of their own body, Kenma’s body count went higher and higher with every passing year (in the least sexual way, of course). The gun you all had sworn to use only in self defense slowly became a tool used to relieve Kenma’s frustration at literally anything and everything. He would even go as far as to shoot the delivery boy when food he ordered came a minute too late. 

In short, he was a vicious, bloodthirsty shadow of the boy he’d once been. 

In short, Kozume Kenma had turned into exactly the kind of person you had promised to yourself to never let him become… 

…and in a way, it had been _you_ that triggered it all in the first place.


End file.
